Experimenting: The Observation
by Story.Lightning
Summary: Sherlock. Hmm? What are you doing? An experiment. On what? You. Fic is better than the summary, trust me. A bit fluffy. (Recently Experimenting: Hypothesis and Conclusion)


Experimenting: THE OBSERVATION

* * *

John was reading in his chair when he felt eyes on his head. He looked up to see Sherlock, fingers forming a triangle as he thought, and eyes trained on John's face. John raised an eyebrow.

"…Sherlock?"

His flatmate made a 'hmm' sound.

"Do you realize that you're staring at me?"

Sherlock made a quick nod, barely a nod at all. You had to be close to him to even distinguish his slight movement.

"Oh…okay." He returned to his book. A few minutes later, he heard a shuffling, and assumed Sherlock had diverted his attention to something else. As usual.

John looked up, and almost jumped out of his chair.

"GAH! _Sherlock_!"

Sherlock was crouched in front of John, directly in front of his legs. His face showed no emotion, but his hands were still formed in his signature triangle, his eyes still on John.

Suddenly, Sherlock lurched forward, hands on the armrest of John's chair. His face leaned in toward John's, barely brushing noses with him. John leaned back.

"Sherlock…what are you doing?"

Sherlock was silent, and soon, so was John. The taller man gazed into John's eyes, and John stared back into his. John's expression softened, and the two men were frozen, like statues, for what seemed like hours. Which was, in reality, only 5 seconds.

Sherlock suddenly broke into a smile, and receded. He quickly ran upstairs to his room, leaving a baffled and slightly dazed John in his chair, with his book somehow released from his hand and laying carelessly on the ground.

* * *

This incident happened twice more, once while John was watching telly, and another time while John was eating. Each time, Sherlock grinned and raced upstairs to his room.

John found this confusing, odd…

And annoying.

Each time, he was left befuddled as to what Sherlock was doing.

He couldn't be getting off on it, he was only in his room for about 30 seconds before coming back down and acting as if nothing happened. As if this was a normal thing.

John shook his head. No man in the world could do it that fast. 'And,' he added to his thoughts, 'he couldn't be getting off because of me.' He waved away the thought entirely.

One afternoon, as John was typing on his laptop, he caught Sherlock staring at him again. He brushed the odd feeling he was getting off, and continued to type. Suddenly, his chair spun around, and he found himself staring straight into the face of Sherlock.

"Sherlock! I've had-"

"Shh!" John found Sherlock's finger in his lips. As Sherlock smiled again and ran up to his room, John called after him.

"Sherlock, stop!"

Surprisingly, Sherlock stopped and turned around.

"What?"

"_What are you doing_!?"

Sherlock's face hardened. "What do you mean?"

"You know bloody well what I mean! You've been – _leaning in_ on my face and then running to your room and have done it about four times now!" John calmed his voice. "Tell me what you're doing."

Sherlock pointed up the stairs. "Experiment. Have to write my conclusions upstairs."

"Experiment of _what_?"

Sherlock's lips pressed into a fine line. "Your eyes."

Before John could respond, Sherlock raced up to his room, leaving John in utter ignorance.

* * *

They didn't talk about the incident that night. Or, rather, Sherlock didn't answer any of John's questions. All Sherlock said was:

"I'll tell you later."

And that's all John got from Sherlock. He didn't answer John the next morning, nor the day afterwards.

Finally, after a case just being solved (a jealous wife killed her husband's secretary who, by the way, was in no way having an affair with said husband), Sherlock busted into 221B and ran up the stairs.

Finding this odd, John ran up after him. When he reached the top, he found Sherlock pacing rapidly.

"Sherlock, what is wrong with you!? You've been acting like a complete prat these past few days."

"I suppose you'd want an answer-"

"Yes! I would!"

"-about my experiment."

John froze, unsure if he wanted to know the answer or not.

"Yes…" he started. "Why…were you experimenting on my eyes?"

"I wasn't experimenting _on_ your eyes." He picked up a pen and fiddled with it. "I was watching their reactions."

"What?"

Sherlock, for maybe the first time in his life, hesitated.

John leaned on the back of his chair. "Their reactions to what?"

"Well, to be more specific, your pupils, not your eye entirely." Just as John was about to object, Sherlock continued:

"Their reaction as I looked at your face. Your pupils, given the chemical reaction, either shrink or expand as you look upon a certain object or…human being."

John nervously drummed his fingers on the chair. "So…you were experimenting on how my pupils reacted…as I looked at you."

"Yes."

John waited. "And?"

"And what?"

"What was the answer? Did you find what you were looking for?"

Sherlock twirled the pen in his hands. "Yes."

John nodded. "So, come on, tell me. What did my eyes do?"

"Your pupils," Sherlock corrected.

"My pupils. What did they do?"

"They dilated."

"Ah," John said. "…Is that a good thing?"

The makings of a smile showed on Sherlock's face. As he was about to answer, his phone rang. He picked it up swiftly.

"Hello?" A pause. "On our way." He hung up and grabbed his coat. "There's been a murder."

* * *

That night, John was typing the latest murder case on his blog. Sherlock had almost flipped a table when Lestrade showed him the crime scene.

"_How_ do you not know who did it? The answer is right under your noses!" He had stretched his glove and picked up the victim's credit card, which was hidden under his torso.

"The murderer tried to steal the man's card, most likely also something else of importance, and the victim resisted." He had turned the card over, and had handed it to Lestrade.

"Fingerprints that were not the victim's on the opposite side of where he was holding it. Find the prints, find the killer. I think we're done here."

He had quickly left the premises with John struggling to keep up behind him.

John finished his entry, and posted it. Then, out of curiosity, went to the search website and typed in 'dilated pupils.' He skimmed a few articles.

'No, I'm not on drugs,' he thought, 'Sherlock would have commented on that…maybe it could be the light…but it was a reaction of me seeing Sherlock, what could possibly-' John froze on the last reason in this particular article. He then sat back in his chair, smiling.

"That idiot."

* * *

The next day, John found Sherlock at the table, reading an article. John sat across from him and stared at the back of the newspaper, which was obscuring John's vision of Sherlock's face.

He didn't have to wait long to be noticed. Sherlock unfolded the top of the newspaper and glared softly.

"John."

"Hmm?"

"You do realize that you're staring at the back of my newspaper."

John nodded. "Yes. Yes I do."

Sherlock raised an eyebrow and re-straightened the newspaper. John leaned forward and rested his head on his clasped fingers, staring intensely.

Sherlock unfolded the newspaper again.

"You're still doing it, John."

"I know that, Sherlock."

Sherlock squinted for a moment, then continued reading, leaving the top of the newspaper folded. John smiled and stood up from his chair. He leaned across the table, not quite getting as close as Sherlock always did, but close enough.

Sherlock folded his newspaper completely and slammed it on the table. "John, w_hat are you doing?_" His voice faltered at the end of the sentence, realization gliding across his face.

John smiled. "An experiment."

Sherlock grinned as they both looked into each other's eyes.

"Find what you were looking for?" Sherlock inquired.

John beamed as Sherlock's 'eyes' widened. "Yes. Yes I did."

* * *

**Edited: 13-7-13 (July 13, 2013)**


End file.
